Lyrebird
by aniwaniwa
Summary: Cass is pretending to be someone else. It's not that unusual anymore, she's so used to it. She's hiding everything about herself. But everything is going to be turned upside down when Captain America comes waltzing into her life, and it's a little awkward considering Cass' sole purpose used to be hunting him down and killing him. Steve/OC
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys so this is my first story, please be kind! I'm taking this from the end of Captain America, sort of pre-Avengers time period. It will be a slow burn (I think) and I may change the rating as it goes on. Also I know how it might seem like I plucked the OC's homeland out of thin air, but I thought I'd stick to what I know being a kiwi myself.

Thanks for reading!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Avengers material, just my OC Cass.

UPDATED 11/06/18

* * *

 _My name is Cassandra Monroe. My birthday is 4th November 1987. My parents names are_ …

I stopped writing, went back and crossed out one word…

 _…were Annabelle and Richard Monroe. My brother's name is…_

I cursed, unable to remember. This is why I did this, this terrible breach of conduct, it was so dangerous but so necessary, or else I'd lose who I was. I looked at the piece of paper, and continued writing, inspiration striking.

… _Thomas. I am from New Zealand._

Looking fearfully at the small piece of paper that could ruin at me, I marvelled at how hard it had become to remember these details. Shaking my head, I pulled out my lighter, lit the paper and watched it burn before dropping the last flaming remnant into the bin.

Pulling out a new piece of paper I wrote down carefully.

 _My name is Miriam Harper. My birthday is 28th May 1984. My parents names are Hazel and Grant Harper._

I stopped musing whether Hazel Harper was a bit much, shrugging I decided it could happen.

 _I am an only child. I am from Portland, America._

This piece of paper I did not burn. Not yet. I looked at it a hundred times, and then read it to myself in the mirror a hundred times making sure that I knew it, that it was instinct. I am Miriam. I am Miriam. Tonight I would go and make myself some documents. Tonight I was a new woman. Quite literally, considering Miriam Harper had just been brought into existence.

I burnt the paper, looking about me at the small motel room that was just another pit stop in between identities. Absently I wondered if I'd ever stop running. It seemed unlikely, knowing what chased me. I knew that despite everything that had happened in Russia they were still out there, still looking for me. And with the blood on my hands I probably deserved it.

I had found myself in New York of all the places. I couldn't quite believe it. Miriam may never have been surprised, but the Cass in me had always dreamed of visiting. Not like this though. I had wanted to see the plays and the clubs and the statues and the cool houses. I had wanted to live in an old brick three storey building that was boho chic.

I squashed the feeling down, knowing that Miriam Harper didn't harbour these feelings. I seriously had to get my mind on track, I had been doing this long enough to know that your identity had to be firmly in place at all times. You didn't just pretend to be that person, you became that person. It was safer, and it was easier. Trying to cling too tightly to who I use to be was just too tiring.

I had got a job at a small (very small) library in Brooklyn. It doubled as a bookshop and a cafe, and honestly anything else it could possibly be. There were companies interested in buying the land but the community was persistent. It liked its bookshop, so it stayed. I had hoped for something more inconspicuous, maybe a bigger library, or just a generic position in admin, retail or hospo, but the job market was tough. Miriam had experience and so this is what I got. Secretly, while hating myself for it, I loved the job, because it was the closest I had been to myself in a long time.

"Did you hear the news?" I turned from my desk to see Abby, the assistant librarian, flailing her arms at me.

"Uh, honey, you're gonna have to be more specific. I see news, but this sounds like specific news..." she cut me off mid ramble.

"I'm talking superhero news," she was practically bouncing up and down in her excitement.

"I can't say I did," I said, uninterested, as I turned back to the computer where I was scrolling through the online archives for a land record a customer had been looking for. I kept my face calm, but my heart had started ticking just that little bit faster.

"Oh sweetheart, you are just too cute! Who doesn't want to hear about gorgeous superheroes?" Abby was swooning by this point. "And it's such an amazing story!"

"Uh huh," I mumbled.

"There was this guy and he was trapped in ice, and then he got found, and then-" I turned to her sharply.

"Abby. Don't tell me that-"

"Yes!" she squealed. "They found him, they finally found Captain America!" I was stunned. Honestly, I hadn't seen that coming, despite the fact that the organisation had. It was as though my worst fear had been realised, and I barely heard a word Abby was saying as she continued in her rant.

"and the government tried to keep it all hush-hush, but you know how it goes - ooh look. Someone posted this video of him in the street. I'm so jelly." Moving aside I gave Abby room to pull up the video.

"Are we sure it's him? I mean it could be-" but I had to tail off when I saw the camera zoom in on his face. It was undeniably him.

Just then a customer cleared his throat in front of the counter. I quickly paused the video, still in shock, and turned away to let Abby deal with him. When I looked at her I saw her mouth hanging open. When I looked at the customer, I saw Captain America himself, in the library.

It was awkward enough that we had been watching a video about him (and by the slight blush I think he knew it) but it was further complicated by the sudden and complete desire I had to murder him.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey all, thanks so much for the support. Please feel free to review and as I haven't fully worked out where this is going, let me know what you might want to happen. I _may_ put it in. No promises. Don't worry, there's going to be more Cap/Cass contact, we just have to get through all of this who the hell are you stuff. Rather a quick update (and a longer chapter, which will be more regular) but I have some free time lately and I want to get this idea rolling.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Avengers material, just my OC Cass.

* * *

Chapter 2

I froze. It suddenly occurred to me that my choice to live in New York hadn't really been my choice at all, but subliminal messaging pushing me towards the centre of superhero activity. That I should find myself inches away from my target was no coincidence at all and for the life of me I just couldn't work out how the organisation was able to predict these occurrences. And yet predict they did. I filed that thought for further examination at a later time, one when I wasn't so occupied with not leaping over the desk that lay between me and Captain America.

"Hello?" his tentative greeting shook Abby out of her stupor just a little, enough for her to put on her professional front.

"How can I help you today, sir?" she said, shooting me a sideways glance that clearly said 'what the hell are you doing'. I made no reply, concentrating on keeping my body absolutely still. Casting me a nervous glance (who would've thought he was shy?) he focused on Abby, you know, the one actually acting like a normal human being.

"I was wondering if you had some history books on current events, ma'am, I'm- a little behind," he faltered.

Abby's face twisted in sympathy. "Of course, you'll find it in the non-fiction section upstairs," she tapped on the computer, bringing up a list of books. "If you look under history, I'd recommend _A Brief Summary of the Last Fifty Years_ by Edward Cartwright, it has some great notes on developments in technology, culture and politics. It's not too long either," she wrote quickly on the scrap of paper, listing reference numbers. "I've added a couple that I think might be helpful, please let me know if you need further assistance."

I marvelled at her professionalism, here was the woman who not two minutes ago had been swooning over the very thought of the man being resuscitated.

"Oh and sir?" he turned from where he had been making his way to the stairs. "I'd just like to thank you for your service to this country," she half-whispered. Ah. There was the Abby I knew and loved. He gave a half-smile, half-grimace, and shrugged, shooting me an odd look as he made his way up the stairs. As soon as he was out of sight, Abby wacked me on the arm.

"What is with you?" she hissed. "Are you trying to make him feel like an outsider?" I was suddenly taken by just how much Abby cared. But I just couldn't seem to make myself act normally. There was a burning fire in my throat, spreading right throughout my body, and I could barely stop myself from shaking. My hands were itching, and I couldn't seem to think through the haze that had clouded my head.

"I-I'm sorry, Abby. I-" I stuttered. "I think I h-have to go," I jerkily put my things together and practically fled out the door to Abby's protests. Oh god. Why did that place have to have such a hold on me, I could never get free from it. I cursed my lack of grace, I was a worldclass-

No. Not anymore. Now I was just running. I froze in my flight to my apartment, pausing to recollect whether or not I had given my name and realised with a jolt that I hadn't. At least something good had happened, I could still use Miriam. But it would be safer to get out of the city. With that thought in mind I packed my things into a bag abandoning everything I didn't absolutely need. I travelled light anyway, my apartment was just well stocked enough to avoid suspicion, while still being ready to escape at a moment's notice. And this definitely counted as a moment's notice.

I ran out and hailed a taxi which, miraculously, stopped. "JFK please," I huffed. Woah there, I needed to keep up the fitness a little, I was falling behind. Wouldn't do to be caught off guard. Something exactly like what happened in the library today. The driver merely grunted and made his way towards the airport. On the way I spared a thought for my job at the library, and realised that if I wanted to keep Miriam I would have to come up with some excuse. Maybe it would just be easier to forge some new papers. I couldn't be Larisa, Madeleine, Viktoria or Caroline, as I knew they had all of those ones on file. Hm. Freya? Eh, no, I don't think I could take the name of the Norse goddess of beauty without really feeling a bit bizarre about it. Maybe I'd figure it out when I knew where I was going. Stuck in my musings I barely noticed when the cabbie pulled up in front of the airport, demanding his exorbitant fee. Honestly, taxis. I sighed, forking it over, resolving to stockpile some more cash in the next city. Checking the time on my phone I saw that I had three missed calls from Abby, and I sucked in a breath, thinking about how she was a good friend. I felt bad, but not bad enough to call back. I was about to chuck the burner when something stayed my hand, and I decided I could always do it later. Thirty minutes later I found myself in the departure lounge of the first flight I could find that got me out of the city – I was off to Toronto. The boarding call was announced but I stayed rooted in my seat, bag in hand. Once called. Twice. Final boarding call.

"Paging Ms Miriam Harper, paging Ms Miriam Harper, this is your last call for flight AA4195 to Toronto. Please make your way to the departure lounge immediately. Again, calling Ms Miriam Harper." But I didn't move. I sat there while I watched the flight take off and my brain just couldn't compute why I was not following my own logic. Something clicked through the haze. Obviously, their programming extended much further than I had thought – it had to be that. It couldn't be the idea that I was intrigued, of course not, I was far too logical for that. I was smarter than that. Right? I didn't know anymore. The truth was that I had been running for the last three years and I was bored of changing identities – I didn't know if it was the organisation's hold on me keeping me in New York or my own interest. Resigning myself to the fact that either way I was here to stay I picked myself up and headed back to my apartment. Putting everything back and feeling the adrenaline fade from my system I felt a tingling sense of fear, but, was that hope in there too?

I had just finished when I had heard a knock on the door. My face pulled into a frown as I puzzled over who it was. One hand gripping the weapon hooked into my belt I opened the door, but when I saw who it was I relaxed, hiding the knife.

"Abby?" I said perplexed and she looked at me, worried. "Why are you here?"

"I was concerned, Miri, you just ran out in such a hurry. You looked so white. I tried earlier but you must have been out. What's going on?" she babbled all of this in a hurry, and I stood gaping, at a loss. I had been on the run for three years and never had a friend shown up on my doorstep, worried for my health. I was at a loss. "Miriam?"

"I- I-"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course," I motioned her in, and went to boil the kettle, formulating a plan quickly, pushing my mushy brain into action. "Tea?" I called and she affirmed.

"You know how I take it," she called back, and I paused, realising I did. Maybe I had been in New York longer than I had realised. We sat and chatted for a couple of hours over tea, me spinning some story of how I had lost my grandfather in World War II and my uncle to Vietnam, and how soldiers represented loss and death to me. She looked at me with mild doubt but in general I think she bought it. Because, apparently, we were good friends. And I hadn't even realised.

The next day I brought in muffins, I had enough humanity in me to realise that my behaviour warranted an apology and so I had made banana chocolate chip muffins for Abby, and maybe even Captain America if he should so choose to go to the library two days in a row. I kept the latter thought firmly squashed in my brain, because really, who did that? But to my utter surprise, come 2pm there he was. I looked up, my body filling with that familiar liquid fire. I steeled myself. I would get control of this, I told myself firmly. He looked at me warily as he approached. I didn't blame him.

"Hi," I said cheerfully. "How did the reading go?" He looked stunned, and jerked forward placing the two books on the counter.

"Oh, er, fine, ma'am. I just- I just had to make sure I hadn't said something wrong yesterday," he said, and I think at that moment the same thought crossed both of our minds. He hadn't really had time to say much.

"No," I sighed convincingly, and spun the same tale to him that I had to Abby. "I'm really sorry, it was a kneejerk reaction," I said, finishing with a soft smile. "Muffin?" He looked bemused.

"Sure," he took it from me, and then narrowed his eyes. "Did you make these for me?" Suddenly I felt flustered. Wait, I was flustered? This was so complicated.

"I mean, maybe, I didn't know…I just thought…if you did come in," I trailed off from my stuttering. "Did you like Abby's suggestion? You read it pretty quick," I changed subject quickly. His head snapped up.

"Yes, I don't have a whole lot else to do right now and- and I'm finding these…changes a little complicated," we both stood there, ignoring the fact that I knew what he was talking about and he knew I knew.

"Well, if you ever need some help you need only ask. It's our job. Besides," I said more softly, "Anyone would have trouble going through what you're going through." I lowered my eyes, scanning the books he had brought in and placing them on the cart for re-shelving. When I looked up his blue eyes were staring at me intently.

"Well, I- I might just do that," he wandered off to the CD section, just strolling through the aisles. I didn't talk to him anymore that day, Abby checked out his CDs and another history book, but I watched him. Covertly. At least, I'd like to think so, and I did have a fair bit of experience in that. In fact recon was my specialty – well that and camouflage. As he left the library that day I felt something stir inside me, I didn't know whether it was my hidden killer instincts, or something far more sinister, a small seedling of emotion towards Captain America. But I knew that I was stuck in New York, I knew I was stuck with him, because I just couldn't bear not to find out how this was going to play out.

* * *

Here we go! And I say that not in a presenting kind of way, but a kind of strap on your seatbelt sort of way. Yes Steve is quite OOC at the moment, being all shy and stuff, but he did only just wake up from the ice, so he's adjusting to the new century. He will develop as we go on.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hi readers, if you're here and you stuck with it, well done! I'm not sure I even have that much faith in me. There are so many reasons this fanfic hasn't been updated but the main one is my confidence in my writing was somewhat rattled. Combine that with university, a house fire and an earthquake and everything kinda hit the fan. (It sounds like I'm making this up but I'm really not). But here we are, and I'm trying again although I'm still figuring out how regular updates will be. Thanks, team! R & R please.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Avengers material, just my OC Cass.

* * *

Steve Rogers, aka Captain America had been to two different art galleries, checked out the pizza in Brooklyn (plain cheese, who does that?), picked up some art supplies and sat sketching in the middle of Central Park. He was staring intently at the fountain, and I was staring intently at him. Had been for the last two weeks. I was just starting to get into the groove of being a super creep. Or you know, a spy. I was still mastering the art of controlling the bloodlust I seemed to have whenever I saw him, and the part of me that couldn't shake it had decided that spying on him was a really great idea. Logical me was a little less sure, thinking maybe space would be a better option. I'm talking general distance, not the great vast expanse in the sky, although, at this point it feels as though the only way I can escape my past would be to become an astronaut. Reach for the stars, yay S Club 7.

The back of my neck prickled and I turned around to the food truck to order a hot dog. I didn't even like hot dogs, but hey, a cover is a cover. Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye I saw him look around almost absentmindedly, like being watchful was a trait he just couldn't kick. Something flickered when he saw me and he made his way over, at which point my blood started to boil.

"One please, I want all," I ordered with a beautifully heavy Russian accent. The guy's head bobbed, a little intrigued by the Russian lady but not enough to really give any attention to. Taking my spoils I turned to sit on the stone wall, realising at that moment that Rogers was simply ordering a hot dog. Mentally sighing at my paranoia (and my distaste for the hot dog) I munched on it, trying not to notice too much when he came and sat next to me.

"From Russia, huh?" Oh great, he was making conversation.

"Yes, I come not long back. Everyone say America great, so I come," I shrugged. "America, okay."

Rogers raised his eyebrows and I internally giggled at the idea that he was offended, he was Captain America after all. "It can be good here, you know," he held out his hand. "I'm Steve."

"Larisa," I offered mine back, immediately cursing to myself. Burnt. This name was burnt. Oops. Let's just hope he wasn't in the loop. On the other hand, it was nice to know that my skills were just as effective as they had ever been, I mean, there wasn't even a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"Are you here for long Larisa?" Was there something suggestive in that tone? Huh, he was more confident than I thought. "I could show you some more sights to make you appreciate America a little more," he said smiling. No. Surely not. That did not mean what I thought it meant, I would have to choose to believe that he was just vain and couldn't let the little tourist not enjoy his country. I would pick overtly patriotic over overtly flirting.

"No, New York is last place on list. Next day I go. Must see boyfriend," I gave a simpering smile, gleefully watching the smile on his face slip a little. Toying with people was just too much fun.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your last day here," he said, dusting off his pants and making his way to the subway. Damn he was just too nice, couldn't even be jealous. I was glad to realise my camouflage technique was still as perfect as ever. Deciding I had done enough stalking for the day (or ever) I chucked the rest of the hot dog and slinked off home. Where I would not, definitely would not look at old reel footage of him in the war. Wow. I was screwed.

Of course I did end up watching the footage but we won't linger on that. I had realised that my training had fallen a little short, and took immediate steps to remedy this. Flicking my hair up into a ponytail I started with cardio before moving through various poses and movements for martial arts before stretching to finish. It was easy to lapse in my physical conditioning when I hadn't seen any action in nearly two years. I was just winding down when my phone rang shrilly, and when I looked at it I say Abby. I sighed gustily, she had still been a little suspicious of me the last few days, presumably not helped by the fact that I was still acting weird. It was frustrating that I could realise this and still not change it.

"Abby! Hi."

"Miri, hey. I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out?"

"Hang out?" I was taken aback, sure we were work friends but I hadn't realised we had breached the barrier. You know, the barrier that separates normal friends and situational friends. Those friends that you only see in that one situation, and you're best friends in that situation but otherwise forget about it. Before everything happened I had been really bad at breaching the barrier, and there was a part of me that was glad to realise that I hadn't changed that much. Turns out I still couldn't quite read people.

"Yeah…you know, like normal people? Not these mole rats that we appear to have become, hiding away in our little basement of solitude and books."

"Dramatic much? We have lives," I paused. "Kind of."

"Mhm." I could feel the judgement radiating down the phoneline.

"Okay, fine, so I'm a hermit who likes books. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes. I am perfectly satisfied. Now get your butt moving, we're going shopping." I suppressed a groan. Barely.

"Fine, I'll meet you in half an hour in town?" I said, looking down at my sweaty apparel.

"Well…" she trailed off.

"You're outside my house, aren't you?"

"Yes!" came the bright response, and I realised that I could actually hear her not just down the phoneline.

"Fine, come in," I mumbled, as I came and opened the door. "But I'll need a few minutes to clean up." Her eyes widened comically at my physical gear as if the very thought of exercise pained her. She shied around me.

"Yep, all good, just don't let me catch the fitness bug." I rolled my eyes but got moving.

Three hours and a ton of stores later, and I was feeling much better about my decision to review my friendship with Abby. Turns out she was a bargain hunter and a very good shopper. I hadn't even realised someone could be a good shopper until she waltzed straight into a store picked several items of a rack and told me to go try them on. We were in and out of stores fast. I couldn't help but be impressed. And relieved.

"So what brought this on?" I asked as we toted our bags down the street, drinking coffee.

"Oh, you know…thought it was about time we became better acquainted." She gave me a sly look. "Plus, I think Captain America is into you."

"Whatever!" I was astonished. "I practically ran away from him the first time I met him!"

"Yeah, but then you made him muffins," she rebuffed.

"They were for you!"

"You keep telling yourself that sugar."

We kept up the banter all the way down the street until I had the misfortune of being bumped by a busy work person, obviously late for something. I could feel myself falling and was about to manoeuvre my way out of it until I felt someone else help me. At the pump of adrenaline and the zinging through my veins I knew who it was immediately, despite the baseball cap and the nondescript clothing. I also knew the exact moment that Abby realised who it was also.

"Hi!" she squealed.

I just hoped beyond belief that he hadn't been using any superpowers to eavesdrop on our conversation because I felt that would just make this whole situation even worse. He smiled and returned the greeting, and I deigned to greet him also. I looked down at the hand on my arm, feeling my muscles tense, and he let go immediately. Abby looked between us and trying to dissolve tension started an awkward conversation.

"What are you up to, Steve? I mean, Mr Rogers, I mean you do know who I am, right? I mean you remember me, us, er…"

"I think Abby's trying to ask how you're doing?" I helped her out. He laughed quietly.

"How could I forget you beautiful ladies?" My eyebrows winged their way up. Surprise, surprise Mr Charming. "I'm doing fine, better in fact, especially with those books. I apologise for using so many library books."

"Of course not, that's what they're for," said a demure Abby. "Anything you're still stuck on?" At the moment we got bumped again, and we both grimaced.

"Well…yes, actually, but…did you want to get some coffee?" Another surprise. We looked at the coffee cups in our hands, as did he and he frowned.

"Love to," said Abby before he could say anything else, and I shot her a glance.

"Great. And you, miss…?" he looked at me and I realised he didn't know my name. I hesitated, unsure if this was a good idea. I looked at him and he quirked an eyebrow. Ah well, I was really in it now.

"Miriam. And yeah, sounds good, I'm sure we can help you out." He grinned, relieved.

And that's how I found myself having coffee with the man I'd been stalking.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Hello! I'm back! As always this is where I promise to update more regularly (yes more regularly than once every year or two) and then feel bad when I break said promise. But I'm keen to give this a good shot. Hope some people out there still want to read it.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Avengers or any of their material, I only own my OCs. I do not profit from this story.

* * *

I closed the door behind me, and sank to the ground leaning against it. I let out a deep sigh. I could feel everything piling up around me, and suddenly I became extremely apprehensive about what could be coming. There was a storm coming, that's for sure.

It always sounds like such a cliché, but it was an apt metaphor. Things around me were accumulating into these dark rainclouds, and I couldn't help but wonder about what would happen when the rain fell. I closed my eyes and let me head fall against the door with a loud thunk.

My brain wouldn't stop thinking over the afternoon, to meeting up (accidently?) with Steve Rogers again. For someone that I had been actively following for the last couple of weeks I was certainly surprised to run into him in the street. It's not like New York was a small place. I brushed the thought aside for further thought later in favour of thinking about the coffee date. Not a date, not a date!

"So, Abby, Miriam, how long have you lived in New York?" he asked, taking a swig of coffee.

"Well, I've lived here for six years now Mr Rogers-" Captain America made an abortive gesture with his hand and Abby stilled immediately, sensing she had made a mistake.

He swallowed his coffee. "Please, call me Steve. Mr Rogers is- much too formal," he said quickly. "I'm sorry to interrupt, please continue?" he smiled softly.

Abby smiled in response, though rather demurely I thought. "Well – okay, Steve." I stifled a laugh at her fake shyness and she shot me a glare. "I moved here six years ago from the Baltimore area and, well, it was a slight change of pace," Abby laughed awkwardly and looked down. "This is usually where people say, but where are you from? Where did you immigrate from?"

Steve frowned slightly. "I don't think that's fair. You seem American to me." Abby smiled.

"And I am!" she said brightly. "But I guess it's fair to say that my parents came from Korea to Ellicott City twenty years ago. It's not like I remember Korea though. I'm an American citizen." Steve looked at her kindly.

"You don't have to explain it to me, Abby," he said softly. She turned her head away. Steve changed the subject, turning his attention to me. "And you?" I suddenly felt a strong impulse to tell him my life story. And not the fake one.

"Oh, not long, I've only been here for a few months. I moved here from my hometown too – Portland that is, not Ellicott City," I laughed. "It's been rather a strange adjustment," I added wryly, being as truthful as possible without giving anything away. That's the first thing you learn of course. The truth is much easier to lie with.

Steve's smile slipped a little, and he gave a despondent shrug. "Well, I can certainly relate to that feeling." An uncomfortable silence followed his statement, in which I looked away and Abby suddenly found her coffee the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. Oops. Steve seemed to notice our reactions and he straightened in his seat. "Anyway, I had a couple of questions about some of the technology advancements in this book I was reading…"

I let the memory fade. It had been nice, albeit strange, having coffee with a friend and – well, I didn't really know what to call Steve yet. I had seen too much of him recently to think of him as simply an acquaintance but I didn't know him all that well yet. That wasn't even taking into account the full implications of what being near him meant for me. Not that I fully understood it myself.

I decided that sitting on the floor all night probably wouldn't help much with the situation and shifted to stand up. But I did thunk my head one more time on the door. Touch wood and all that. I thought I'd need all the luck I could get.

The next week was surprisingly slow. Captain – no – Steve didn't make any more appearances at the library, for which I was relieved and also oddly disappointed. Abby kept up a running commentary on her thoughts on the situation, just in case she thought that I really needed to know.

"You know he's funnier than I would've thought he'd be. But he also seems very lonely. Do you think he has any friends? I guess all his friends have died now. Can you imagine if you got stuck in the ice for seventy years? I can't believe he's still alive after that. It must have been so scary. He's so brave and patriotic, risking his life to fight the Nazis. God he's attractive. That must be some skincare routine he's got, his skin is divine. I wonder if he's got a girlfriend. Oh he probably doesn't, he did just wake up essentially from a coma."

This was the part usually where she turned to me with a smirk on her face, and a sly look in her eye. "I maintain there's something there between the two of you though." I held up a hand to stop her, as well as to take the next book for shelving.

"Abby, please. Don't be ridiculous, I'm sure he's just looking for someone to help him, for a connection right now. He just seems a bit lost."

She scoffed. "Sure he's lost. I get that. Doesn't mean he's not still a man in his prime years –" she paused. "How old does that make him?" she waved a hand. "Ah doesn't matter, it doesn't count. The point is he's a guy, who's straight – I think. Ooh there's a thought, do you think Captain America is gay?"

And of course because the universe and I are great pals, a customer just happened to be standing there as Abby voiced her musings on Captain America's sexual orientation. I gave a half-hearted smile to the person, as they frowned unapprovingly at Abby. She just shrugged her shoulders in response. "Don't tell me you're not curious too?" is all she offered in explanation to the poor patron. I looked at her in exasperation as they quickly left the building.

"Abby."

"What?"

My hands halted suddenly as I felt a prickle at the back of my neck, the hairs standing up on end. What was this feeling? I swung my head around, searching for the source of my unease without any luck. It wasn't the feeling of murderous intent towards Captain America, I knew that much. It was a familiar feeling. Like someone was watching me. Scoping me out. A voice drifted into my consciousness and I turned to find Abby waving her hands at me and looking concerned.

"-you okay? Miriam? Miri?" I shook my head, clearing the fog that had drifted by.

I smiled reassuringly. "Sorry Abby, just thought I heard something." Abby looked unconvinced.

"I dunno, Miri, it looked like you saw a ghost or something. You looked real spooked," she frowned. "What's wrong?" I grimaced at her persistence but shook my head lightly.

"Nothing, really," I rolled my eyes. "It's nothing," I stressed at her unconvinced look. I kept re-shelving books, trying to ignore the look that Abby was giving me. A suspicious look. Internally I sighed at my incompetence – I wasn't supposed to make people suspicious of me. In the last few weeks it didn't feel like I was doing a very good job hiding my true nature from the people around me. New York was getting hotter.

The next morning I was rostered on with Adam, which was unusual, considering Abby and I shared days more frequently. Of course there were other people working the library, someone on the shop, and a couple of people in the café but I didn't really know them, preferring just to befriend Abby for the most part. Adam was a part-timer, working the weekends and taking the occasional shift when we were busy or needed extra hands. He was studying to be a librarian so he was working to get all the experience he could in a library. There was something that bugged me though, something about him that always made me hesitant.

Today he was definitely acting suspicious, and I kept an eye on him as I manned the desk. What could it be? Was he sent to find me? Who was he really? It was a busy day, and I was kept occupied but I noticed that he kept coming over to me, about to say something. He would open his mouth, and I'd look at him, then either be diverted by a customer or he would shrug and defer to something else work-related. It was driving me insane.

It was the nearing the end of my shift and Adam still hadn't blurted out whatever it was that he was trying to say. Which needless to say was testing my patience. There was a lull in work, and he came over. Opened his mouth. Shut it.

"For god's sake, Adam. What the hell is going on with you today?" I said shortly. "Spit it out," I cut in with when he stuttered in response.

"Oh – I – er – I just – wanted to, that is – I wondered-"

"Adam," I levelled him with a look. I became aware of a customer walking into the library, but I ignored them in favour of finding out this crucial information. Adam screwed up his face.

"I wondered if you wanted to grab a coffee with me sometime?" he blurted out very fast. My face fell open into a blank look of shock. I heard someone chuckle softly, and then apparently try to swallow it. I registered the noise. A singing feeling entered my bloodstream, and I closed my eyes. No way was this happening right now. I opened my eyes to see Adam looking at me hopefully, and turned to see Steve Rogers looking amused. Adam flicked his eyes over and abruptly looked horrified. I guess he had just asked me out in front of Captain America. I think I'd be horrified too. Scrap that, I was horrified right now.

Life was so complicated.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys I've just tried to sort out the timeline of Cassandra's life, and I realised I needed to set a more concrete time in which this is based. Previously I had just set it when I started the story, but I decided it made more sense to be in the year of the release of CA:FA. This means I wanted to alter the year in which Cass was born so I've gone back and edited that, meaning she was now born in '87, and her alias Miriam's birth year is '84.

This chapter took a bit of doing, it took on a life of its own! As always thanks a bunch for reading this, and R & R please; I love feedback!

Disclaimer: I do not own any Marvel content, I only own my OCs.

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Steve arched a single eyebrow at me, trying and failing to suppress a smirk. I stood, frozen on the spot for a moment, locked into eye contact with Steve and trying not to die of embarrassment. Adam make a strangled noise as though he tried to clear his throat and not throw up in one move. Steve's eyes flicked over to Adam, and I sighed in relief at the broken eye contact. It was just a little too intense for my liking.

Oh yes. Adam. I squashed all the feelings inside of me and turned to him with a sheepish half smile. Adam instantly deflated at the look on my face.

"Adam, I-"

"Please, stop," he held up a hand and rubbed his face with the other. "I don't really want to get rejected in front of Captain America."

"Look, I'm really sorry, I just don't really-" I trailed off and he smiled sadly.

"It's fine, Miriam. I-I'm going to go," he retreated quickly into the back room, presumably to flee from me and the whole situation. I felt an anvil crush my chest. I hated that I was the cause of his misery but really there wasn't much I could do about it. Reluctantly I turned to the unwanted customer. Steve smiled warmly at me.

"Miriam, I'm sorry-" he came to a halt as I crumpled over the desk, resting my head on my forearms and closing my eyes. "Are you okay?" I heard him ask distantly. I took a deep breath.

Abruptly I stood up straight and pointed a finger at him. "Okay, here's the deal. I forgive you for interrupting the moment and you pretend like this never happened. Deal?"

He closed his mouth and his face folded into something more relaxed. "Sure. Never happened."

I turned away to the computer to continue my work. He cleared his throat. "What?" I asked testily.

He grimaced. "I was just wondering if you could help me find a couple of things," he held up his hands in a placatory gesture, "No mention of unmentionable events, I promise."

"What events?" I arched my head back to look into the break room, catching a glimpse of Adam who quickly hid from my line of sight. I sighed. "Adam?" I called, and received a muffled response. "I'm just going to help this customer, can you cover the desk?" another muffled reply followed this which I took for a yes. I waited for any more response but acknowledged that this was all I was going to get and gestured for Steve to lead the way.

Steve and I had been going through any problems he'd been having with computer access for a while, and I kept noticing him looking at me sideways. I was ignoring this intently.

"Miriam?" he asked, a curious lilt in his voice.

"No." Out of the corner of my eye I saw his surprise.

"What?"

"We're not going to talk about it, remember? So no. Don't ask." I said shortly, and I saw him nod slowly.

"Okay…I was just wondering about the Cloud and where exactly it exists…I'm not sure I fully understand yet."

I blushed at this. Here was me thinking the world revolved around me and all he wanted was help from the friendly librarian. "Of course, I'm sorry."

"I mean, really I'd like to know why it is you rejected Adam, but I think I'll have to settle for help in the computer department," he turned a full toothed cheeky grin at me to which I rolled my eyes.

"Yep, you should definitely settle for less."

He laughed. "I don't think that's the advice people usually give."

"Well let's be honest, nothing about you is usual anyway, so I don't think I should give usual advice," I snarked thoughtlessly. Immediately his smile dimmed and I felt a pang of regret shoot through me.

"Yeah, I guess that's true," he nodded slowly. I grimaced and bit my lip in my awkwardness.

"Steve, I'm sorry, that- that wasn't fair."

"I don't know about fair, but it was true. I'm unusual and I'll never really fit into this world" was his blunt reply, his face twisting. He half turned and refocused on the computer, working on bringing up the google searches we had been doing.

I kept looking at him, hesitating, reworking words in my head. When I hadn't focused on the computer or said anything for a minute he looked at me, tilting his head to the side. 'What is it?' he asked with that tilt of the head.

I took a breath and forged ahead, uncaring of whether or not this was a good idea. "You might not be normal sure," he laughed humourlessly at this, "but I don't think you should try to be," I continued.

His half laugh cut short and his face fell open, the bitterness sliding away. I swallowed and held the eye contact. "I know you're trying desperately to adjust to this new world you've found yourself in, and I figure you just want to be normal. But you know as well as I do that you'll never be normal. You're a super soldier out of time, what's normal about that?" He frowned.

"Thanks Miriam, but I don't know-"

I cut him off. "No, I'm saying that your situation is unusual. But I'm not saying you aren't still human, or that you should try to be a part of our world," I giggled at the Little Mermaid reference and he looked at me confused. I waved a hand. "Never mind. All I'm saying is you're going to have to reconcile the two parts of yourself, Steve and Captain America. I'm sure it was hard enough back in the day but back in your old time there was a war and there were clear sides. You had to fight to stay alive. Now everything's a little more blurry, more grey; technology changed this world."

He looked bewildered by my rant, and I shook my head. "I'm getting a little off point here. My point is that you are not one or the other. You are Steve Rogers. You are also Captain America. You used to live in the 40s. Now you live in 2011. Maybe don't try so hard to be the person you think you need to be and just accept that you are who you are." I grinned at him. "Warts and all."

At this he smirked a little and gave me a weak shove, a zing going up my arm at the contact. "Hey, that was mean."

"Well, if the shoe fits…" I lifted my eyebrows, canting my head to the side.

He looked away for a minute, a pensive look on his face. I looked down at my watch, allowing him to think for a second on what I'd said.

"Miriam." I looked up to see him looking at me seriously. "Thank you," he said genuinely and with the sweetest smile that I felt a twinge in my chest which I resolutely ignored. "I've talked to so many people, mandatory counselling and all" he gestured with his hand vaguely. "But no one has put how I've been feeling into words so well." I was surprised at this and it must have shown on my face.

"Yeah, people aren't so good at really understanding the 'Man out of Time'," he added the finger quotation marks. "Or maybe they just don't really want to," he added quietly. I picked up my hand and went to place it on his arm in comfort, before deciding that was a bad idea and letting it fall to the desk. After a moment's hesitation he reached and folded his hand over mine.

"I feel like your comments are the first genuine words I've heard in a long time, and they really help," he said, accompanying the words with a small smile and a warm look in his eyes.

I felt a tinge of heat creep into my cheeks at the heartfelt words as well as the large hand folded over mine. The only thing that could ruin this moment was the spasm of murderous hatred that spewed from the core of my being that filtered through my body causing me to jerk my hand a little under his. Quickly I pulled it away as did he, but not before I saw a look of confused hurt pass shortly over his face. I felt an inward stab of hatred towards myself and towards what I was. Couldn't my inner self not ruin the moment for once?

To cover the angst and tension that crept into our small bubble I latched onto the first topic I could think of. "Isn't there someone helping you with all of this stuff Steve?" He looked at me a little blankly.

"You mean technology wise or…?"

"I mean all of it. Culture shock, technology advancements, everything," I waved my hands. "I know you were said you've talked to people, but surely there's someone more qualified than me or Abby to help you adjust?"

He shifted a little in his seat. "Well – yes, I suppose so. But everyone at the facility" – I noticed he didn't say where – "is just so preoccupied by the fact that I'm Captain America. I understand it's a defining character of my being, but not once has someone said to me that I could be both people. That I could be Steve too," he looked sideways awkwardly. "I came to Brooklyn to try and recapture parts of my past, to remember who I used to be. I found it different and confusing. But I found in you and Abby people who were willing to try and help Steve and not just Captain America. I found that I couldn't let that go."

I was astonished at not just the honesty of the statement but the content too – I was important to him? I'd only met him a few times and I'd just helped him in my capacity as a librarian. Underneath this lay the uncomfortable niggling feeling of deception and uncertainty; I was hiding a lot from him and it was information that he would find vital, information that he should never find out. Steve let out a short breath and checked his watch.

"Maybe that's enough for today," he said with a crooked grin, and I didn't know whether he meant enough computer lessons or enough deep and meaningfuls. Somehow it felt more like the latter. I blinked quickly and attempted to look composed.

"Of course, I should get back to my post anyway. Steve?" I called to him as he gathered his jacket and headed for the exit. He looked back at me and our eyes met. "You're welcome here any time." At this he gave a small smile and headed for the door without any need for further acknowledgement.

Everything we had talked about rattled about in my brain, and I went about the rest of my shift in a trance-like state. I did gather myself to give Adam a proper farewell when he left but he slipped out the back door without so much as a by your leave. I found I couldn't really fault him for this, and selfishly felt grateful at the reprieve. My own shift ended half an hour later, and being the last one there I closed up my station as well as the library, giving a nod to Max, our low-key security guard.

I hadn't got very far when I felt an arm pull me into an alleyway, a sharp point pricking into my side, and a rough voice in my ear.

"Empty your pockets, bitch, and give me what you got," I heard and I rolled my eyes. Couldn't I catch a break today? We were sheltered in an alcove of the alley, partially hidden from the street, but it was dark and there wasn't much need for subterfuge as no one was around, or at least no one was up to checking into random alleyways.

"Look you really don't want to do this," I murmured, but received a barking laugh in response as the arm gripping mine tightened painfully. He pushed me against the wall, one of his arms pinning my own behind me in an awkward position while his other held the knife that pricked my side.

"I really do. Now stop fucking stalling and get on with it before I gut you right here in this alley," his tone was demanding and slightly uncontrolled, and in it I recognised that waiver. His hands shook slightly, there was a catch in his voice, and he seemed keyed up.

"I get that you need your fix you really do, but I've had such a crappy day, and I really don't plan on getting mugged right now," I said, giving in to the need to do something drastic. It really had been a crappy day. Well, maybe not that last bit…

"Then you're gonna die here and now," he growled and I felt him shift his weight.

"Oh, I don't think so," is all I said as I moved, headbutting him backwards and using my free hand to jab downwards swiftly as he pulled back, knocking the knife from its position at my side as he reeled. The hand on my arm was still in place but it loosened as he howled in pain and I took the opportunity to yank it away as I twirled to face him.

His now free hand went up to wipe the blood pouring from his nose while his other tightened the grip on the knife that he now held out in front of him, his eyes narrowing in hatred. Before he needed money. Now he wanted to kill me. I didn't really care, too absorbed in the sensation of adrenaline pumping through my veins, high on a feeling I hadn't had in a long time.

"You bitch, you broke my nose! You're gonna die-" he lunged forwards but I dodged quickly to the left, grabbed his arm with both of mine and yanked, hearing broken bones and the clatter of the knife falling to the ground. Swiftly I stepped behind him and kicked at his leg causing him to fall to his knees, before turning to punch him in the face. He fell to his stomach, and more quickly than I would have expected, reached for the knife that had fallen. But I was ahead of him there, flicking it up with my foot before he could reach it.

He pushed up to his knees as I advanced, knife in my hand, a feral grin on my face. I pushed my hair out of my face with my hand.

"Well then, kill me if you're gonna," he snarled and I cocked my head thinking.

"Maybe I will," I murmured with a dark smile, and he faltered in doubt as my face pulled into something sinister. I was so absorbed in the moment, the feeling of complete control over another's life that I didn't hear somebody approach behind me. But I damn well heard when they called my name.

"Miriam?" I heard a voice lilt and I blinked in surprise, turning to find somebody behind me. I didn't know how I was going to explain this one.


End file.
